Perfidy
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: Frankie's first official assignment back at work is to interview Sadiq Fasil. Meanwhile, Angel is hard at work to find out who's trying to destroy Kilmer. [Sequel to tabula rasa]COMPLETE!
1. second time around

Disclaimer: Not my characters, but Christmas is coming, and I'm hopeful ;-)

* * *

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word.

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!

-- Oscar Wilde

* * *

__

chapter one: second time around

Frankie hadn't seen her apartment since the kidnapping. She unlocked the door, grateful for Kilmer's presence behind her, and stepped inside. She walked into the living room and stood still for a moment, her eyes closed.

Strong arms. A hand over her mouth. Chloroform. No! Let go!

"Frankie?" Kilmer touched her arm, drawing her back to the present.

She smiled. "I'm fine."

There were fresh roses in the vase on the coffee table. Frankie looked at Kilmer. "Red, huh?"

"I thought they were appropriate."

Frankie nodded. Red roses symbolized love, but also courage. She walked around the apartment. It was strange to be back after so long. Not that six weeks was that long, she thought, but it was still going to be quite an adjustment from her hospital stay.

Someone had gone grocery shopping. She had a fairly good suspicion it was Kilmer, but didn't say anything. He was enjoying taking care of her, and she was enjoying being looked after.

She returned to the living room to find Kilmer sprawled on the couch. She sat next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. He pulled her closer. At Christmas, they'd decided to put the past behind them and make a fresh start. Since then, they'd become increasingly more affectionate with one another and there was no longer any awkwardness when it came to physical contact.

Frankie tilted her head back to let Kilmer kiss her. In the hospital, there had been no real privacy. At any given moment, someone could have walked into the room. Now, though, Frankie and Kilmer were alone.

Kilmer let his hands wander, sliding them under the hem of Frankie's shirt. When she made no move to stop him, he moved them higher. Frankie arched into his touch. They went from sitting to lying down.

There was a knock at the door. "Frankie?"

Kilmer swore. Frankie laughed. She slipped out from under him and fixed her shirt before she went to answer the door.

"I'd heard you were coming home today," the intruder said. "Oh, hey, John."

"Ally." Kilmer forced a smile. Ally Jackson lived in the apartment directly above Frankie's. She'd been the one to positively identify Ali Hassan as Frankie's kidnapper, which he'd been grateful for at the time. Now, he just wanted her gone so he could go back to kissing Frankie.

Frankie hugged Ally. "Come in."

"Uh, I'm actually on my way out." She smiled. "I just wanted to welcome you back. So, yeah, I'll see you some other time. Cheers, guys."

Frankie closed the door and turned back to Kilmer. "How do you know Ally?"

"We met when you were missing." He didn't elaborate.

Frankie nodded. Instead of returning to the couch, she headed for the kitchen. "Come on, Kilmer. Let's see if you can cook as well as I remember."

Kilmer cursed below his breath, then got up and went to the kitchen.

* * *

It was too dark. Frankie rolled over and turned on her lamp. She sat up in bed, knowing there was no way she'd be able to sleep just yet. When Kilmer had offered to spend the night, she had told him she'd be fine.

Now, she wished he were here.

She could always call him and ask him to come over, she supposed. Her clock radio told her it was just after three. She decided not to call, and switched the radio on. Maybe having noise would help.

Frankie got out of bed, crossing to the dresser. She opened the top drawer, rummaging in it until she found the velvet box she was looking for. Inside were her engagement and wedding rings. She held them in her palm, lost in memories.

"Frankie, umm, will you marry me?"

"With this ring, I thee wed."

"The unbroken circle is for eternity."

Kilmer had started wearing his wedding ring when Frankie was missing. If they were starting over, it made sense for her to wear hers too, Frankie thought.

Kilmer had promised to take things as slowly as Frankie needed. She wasn't ready to wear the rings yet.

Still, she thought, that didn't mean she had to put them back in the drawer.

She unclasped the chain around her neck, slipping the rings onto it. They came to rest next to the gold cross she'd been given by Bella.

Frankie smiled at the thought of the child. When they'd first met, Bella had been so close to dying that Frankie had considered having her blood tested to see if she was a match for the necessary bone marrow transplant. She'd still been suffering from pneumonia though, and it broke her heart to think that there was nothing she could do to help the little girl. Fortunately, Bella's aunt had been a match, and Bella was now recovering from the operation.

Bella had even managed to get Kilmer wrapped around her little finger. Frankie thought of how he'd sat by Bella's bed and read to her about Odysseus and the Cyclops and Medusa. Frankie, standing in the doorway, had found herself imagining Kilmer reading bedtime stories to their children. She'd known then that she wanted things to work this time.

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Angeline O'Reilly was the only member of Kilmer's team at the Vault this late at night. She was staring at the computer screen, sipping her umpteenth cup of coffee, looking for information linking Sadiq Fasil to the terrorist organization, Black Sun. With each day that passed, the need for the link became even more important. Kilmer's career – his life, even – was on the line.

Angel's role on the team was to prove that Kilmer was a traitor. No one, not even Atkins, knew that. Having worked alongside Kilmer for almost two months, she found it hard to believe that he would ever betray his country. She'd told the White House Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry, that much in her meeting with him. The problem was that she didn't have enough hard evidence to back that argument.

Hacking into the Vault's mainframe, Angel came across encrypted files. Intrigued, she managed to break the code, then leaned back in her chair and sighed. The files contained copies of emails sent from Kilmer to Fasil.

Angel needed more coffee. She used one crutch to hobble over to the coffee machine – a car accident in Marrakech had left her with a broken ankle – then searched the cupboards for something to eat. All she found were a couple of crackers, but they were better than nothing.

She didn't believe for one second that Kilmer had ever emailed Fasil. She'd been there when they caught Fasil. Kilmer would have killed him if she hadn't intervened; he hated him that much.

No, this just confirmed her initial suspicions. Someone was out to get Kilmer, and they had no qualms about using Frankie to do it. Though the women weren't friends – Angel knew Frankie had picked up on her feelings for Kilmer – she worried for Frankie's safety. Now that she was out of hospital, it was going to be harder to protect her.


	2. small world

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chapter two: small world

Frankie followed Kilmer into the Vault and stopped at the top of the stairs, looking around. She smiled; yes, she'd missed this. She walked down the stairs and immediately found herself on the receiving end of her coworkers' well wishes. Lark and Holly had visited her often in the hospital. Mo and Tim had come when they could, though they'd spent most of the last three weeks chasing the bomber Nathalie Argeneau around Europe. The team knew she was planning to blow up The Hague, but they didn't know when.

Tyler, one of the decryption experts, gave Frankie a hug and shyly held out a cup of coffee. "It's good to have you back."

She smiled, slightly overwhelmed by all the attention. "Thanks, guys."

Atkins arrived then. He gave Frankie a hug as well, welcoming her back and saying, "We missed you. Maybe now things can get back to normal."

It felt like a homecoming of sorts, though there was still some tension between Frankie and Angel. Frankie had long since accepted that Angel was no threat to her relationship with Kilmer, but she realized that Angel was still uncomfortable in her presence.

Frankie was quiet during the briefing. There was a lot she had to catch up on but Kilmer had told her in no uncertain terms that she had to take it easy for the first week or so. She'd smiled at his concern, and promised not to push herself.

"Hey, who ate my crackers?" Tyler surveyed the room suspiciously.

Angel raised her hand. "Sorry! I had the munchies. I'll make it up to you."

Frankie watched the interplay, and thought Angel and Tyler would make a good couple. She couldn't help it; now that she was in a relationship, it was natural to play matchmaker. She chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Kilmer leaned close to her, his hand in the small of her back.

She shook her head. "I was just thinking, I'm turning into your mother."

Kilmer followed her gaze and broke into a smile. "Ah, playing matchmaker?"

"Thinking about it."

"I don't really think she's his type."

"She's exactly his type. He needs someone outgoing."

Kilmer's voice was low, giving Frankie goosebumps. "What about you, Mrs. Kilmer?"

"Oh, I think I'll stick with what I've got."

"Good to know." Kilmer lowered his head as if to kiss her, then seemed to realize where they were. He chuckled. "You know, there were days when I sat here and all I wanted to do was kiss you. The only thing that stopped me was knowing you'd slap me for even thinking it."

Frankie hid her smile. "Really."

"Yeah. But now I know you're not going to hurt me, keeping my hands off you is going to be that much harder." With that, he winked and left to talk to Jelani.

* * *

Kilmer sat on the edge of Frankie's bed. Though the bathroom door was closed, he could hear the shower running. He was tempted to join her – how long had it been since he'd seen a wet, naked Frankie? – but he forced himself to stay where he was. There would be time enough to seduce his wife. Tonight it was Bella's birthday party, and Frankie would kill him if they were late. He'd been worried that Frankie's attachment to the little girl would only end in heartbreak, but Bella had got her miracle.

And he had got his, Kilmer thought as Frankie exited the bathroom clad only in a towel. She smiled at him. He tilted his head, silently asking her permission to stay. A heartbeat later, she shrugged and walked past him to the closet.

Her necklace was on the bedside table. Kilmer picked it up so he wasn't tempted to watch Frankie get dressed. He noticed her rings were on the chain and turned to face her. By then, she was pulling on a pair of pants so Kilmer didn't feel like too much of a peeping tom. She put a turtleneck sweater on then turned around. Catching Kilmer looking at her, she raised an eyebrow.

"No, I wasn't—" He held up the chain. "Come here."

Frankie sat next to him, lifting her hair so he could put it on for her. When he didn't, she looked at him curiously. "John?"

His heart beating double-time, he asked, "What's stopping you from wearing these on your finger?"

"John, I—"

"Trust me, Frankie. Trust _us_."

Frankie extended her left hand and nodded. Kilmer took the rings from the chain and slid them on. He kept her hand in his and leaned in to kiss her. "We're going to have to see about making this legal again."

Frankie shook her head and her tone was light when she said, "So much for the romance."

Kilmer dropped to one knee. "Frankie, will you marry me?"

She smiled.

* * *

Frankie should have known that Bella's party wouldn't have been an ordinary birthday party considering her father was Congressman Alex Ryan. It was a combination birthday/celebration party, and Frankie recognized quite a few people with important government positions.

Bella was in the living room, the center of attention, and loving every minute of it. She was still pale and her hair was cropped close to her head, but she looked much healthier since Frankie had last seen her. When she saw Frankie and Kilmer, her face lit up.

"Mommy! Frankie's here!"

Cathy Ryan smiled at them across the room. Frankie noticed that she was also looking much better. She waved.

Frankie made her way through the throng of people and sat on the arm of the couch. "Happy birthday, Bella."

Bella got to her knees and pointed at a colored girl with braided hair. "That's Nakeisha. My bestest friend."

Nakeisha looked up and smiled, then went back to playing with her doll.

"Are you having a good time so far?" Frankie asked.

Bella nodded. "Uh huh. I've got lots of presents. And there's cake. I hope it's chocolate. I love chocolate."

Kilmer lifted an enormous orange cat from the couch and sat down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gift-wrapped box. "This is from the two of us."

"Thank you, thank you!" Bella kissed Kilmer's cheek, then blushed bright red. Suddenly shy, she opened the gift. It was a bracelet made from amber beads. "Aw, it's so pretty."

"Not as pretty as you," Kilmer said.

Bella hid her face in Frankie's side. She was about to comment that Bella was far too young for Kilmer, when she spotted Angel talking to someone across the room. Angel must have realized she was being watched; she glanced in Frankie's direction, then smiled.

"John, Frankie," she said when she reached them. "Cathy said you'd be here."

"I didn't realize you were friends of the Ryans." Kilmer's tone was curious.

"Oh, Cathy and I were at school together. Small world, huh?"

"Aunt Angel, look what Frankie and John got me." Bella held out her wrist, displaying her gift.

"Wow, that's lovely. I hope you said thank you."

Bella nodded. "Uh huh."

Someone else caught Angel's attention. She excused herself, and left, maneuvering across the room on a single crutch.

"Aunt Angel hurt her leg in Morococo," Bella said, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. "She was chasing bad guys."

Frankie looked at Kilmer and smiled. She didn't tell Bella that Kilmer had been with Angel at the time, or that he'd carried her halfway back to Marrakech. She saw an odd expression cross Kilmer's face and turned to see who he was looking at.

"Michael, hi." Frankie hadn't realized Michael Watson was friendly with the Ryans either, but she shouldn't have been that surprised; Michael loved politics. He'd been Kilmer's partner in the Bureau for a while, and had asked Frankie out not long after she separated from Kilmer. Neither she nor Kilmer cared much for him.

"Frankie, Johnny. What a nice surprise. I heard you two were working together. Can't imagine why, considering."

Kilmer stood, moving possessively to Frankie's side. He put his hand on her shoulder. She reached up to cover it with hers, and noticed the instant that Michael saw her wedding ring.

"I didn't realize you two were back together." Michael's voice was oddly tight.

Kilmer smiled. "We're working things out."

"That's good to hear." Michael glanced around the room. "Please, excuse me. Good seeing you two."

When he'd gone, Kilmer looked down at Frankie. "He used to have a thing for you, you know."

Frankie nodded. "I think it was more wanting what you had than wanting me for myself."

"Perceptive, aren't you?"

She chuckled. "It's my job."

* * *

Kilmer walked Frankie to her door, claiming a kiss before he let her go inside. She gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, "I feel ridiculous saying this, but I'm, uh, a little scared of the dark and I don't really want to be here alone."

Kilmer's eyes were dark with an emotion she couldn't read. "Is that the only reason you want me to stay?"

Trapped in his gaze, Frankie blinked but was unable to look away. She reached for him, pulling him closer. Their faces just inches apart, she moistened her lips and, finally, found her voice. "No."

"Good answer, Mrs. Kilmer." Kilmer kicked the door closed behind them, pausing only to make sure it latched shut. He lifted Frankie and carried her to the bedroom.


	3. facing the past

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chapter three: facing the past

Kilmer woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He answered it then slipped out of the room, unwilling to wake Frankie.

"Kilmer."

"John?" It was Bella. She sounded upset and Kilmer was instantly concerned.

"Yes. What is it? What's wrong?"

There was sniffling from the other side of the line. "I forgot to say happy birthday to you last night."

Kilmer felt himself relax. He and Bella shared a birthday. Because of Bella's party, he and Frankie had planned a dinner later that week. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, but friends aren't s'posed to forget their friend's birthdays."

Kilmer sat on the couch, smiling now. "Bella, honey, I know you didn't really forget. I bet you were just caught up in all the excitement, is that it?"

"Yeah." She still sounded sad. "But I never got you anything."

"Tell you what, let me check with your parents, and you can come for . . ." He trailed off. What did kids enjoy doing anyway? "We'll go for ice cream or something. You, me and Frankie. That can be your present to me, okay?"

She was silent for a while. "Okay. What did Frankie get you?"

"She said she'd marry me." Kilmer looked down at his wedding ring.

Bella gave a delighted squeal. "I knew it! I knew she loved you!"

At times like these, Bella sounded older than she really was. Kilmer supposed it was a result of all she'd gone through in her short life. Facing death tended to force someone to grow up in a hurry.

"Look, Bella, I have to go. I've got to be at work pretty soon."

"So you're not mad at me?"

"Of course not. I could never be mad at you."

"Okay." She sounded relieved. "G'bye, John. Say hi to Frankie for me."

"I will. Bye, Bella." He hung up and stood to return to the bedroom. Frankie was still fast asleep, a tangle of arms and legs and sheets. She looked so peaceful that he was reluctant to disturb her, but they would be late for work if he didn't.

Quietly crossing to the bed, he bent down and placed a tender kiss on her bare shoulder. She smiled lazily and stretched, cat-like. Kilmer's breath caught in his throat and he reached out to touch her.

It wouldn't be the end of the world if they were just a _little_ bit late.

* * *

Angel refused to believe she was wrong about Kilmer, especially after she'd seen his interaction with Bella and the way he looked at Frankie. The evidence just didn't fit. Yes, there were the emails Kilmer had allegedly sent Fasil, and now there was proof that money had been transferred from an account in Kilmer's name . . . but there was no way Kilmer would do anything to endanger Frankie. Angel was willing to bet her career on that.

She was due to check in with McGarry and update him on her progress. If she did, there was only one course of action McGarry could take. The physical evidence pointed to Kilmer's guilt. Only Angel's gut said that was wrong.

But the government liked hard evidence, not feelings.

Angel rubbed her eyes. She'd been staring at the computer screen for so long that she had a headache.

There had to be something on this mainframe, she thought.

She ran another search on Black Sun. Maybe this time she would see something she'd missed before.

* * *

Frankie was reading through Nathalie Argeneau's file when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startled. "Oh, Colonel. Hi."

Atkins gestured for her to take a walk with him. They went upstairs until they reached an empty part of the hallway. "How are you doing, Frankie?"

"I'm good."

"Have you spoken to a counselor yet?"

"I'm fine."

"Frankie, you've been through a lot. I need to know that you're ready to be back here."

Frankie looked past Atkins. She took a deep breath then forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm still working through a couple of things but I really am okay."

Atkins' brow was furrowed. He considered Frankie's words for a moment. "Okay enough to interrogate Sadiq Fasil?"

Something fluttered in Frankie's stomach at the mention of Fasil. She couldn't let Atkins see how it affected her – that would only prove his point that she needed to see someone – so she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Are you sure? I don't want to send you in if you can't handle it."

Frankie drew herself up to her full height. "Of course I can handle it."

Atkins still looked doubtful, but said, "Alright. You leave for Gitmo in the morning."

When Atkins left, Frankie reached out, touching the wall to steady herself. She'd known she would have to face Fasil one day but hadn't thought it would be so soon. Part of her was tempted to call Atkins back and tell him she couldn't do it, but another part of her told her it was something she needed to do.

Once she was sure she was in control of her emotions, she returned to the Vault. Tyler was at the conference table, making notes in one of the folders. Frankie sat down opposite him and reached for a file.

"How's it going, Frankie?"

She smiled. "Good. Thanks for asking."

Tyler shrugged, not making eye contact. He'd always been shy around women. Frankie thought it was a shame he was so caught up in his computer that he didn't have time for a social life.

Kilmer took the chair next to Frankie, handing her a cup of coffee. She smiled her thanks, her gaze holding his. Waking up with him this morning had felt so right, so natural. His knee brushed hers before his expression turned professional.

"What have you got?"

"Well," Tyler said, "we know Nathalie was in Madrid ten days ago but now it seems she's vanished again . . ."

Frankie forced herself to concentrate. Thinking about Nathalie Argeneau meant she wouldn't have to think about Sadiq Fasil.

* * *

Kilmer had decided to make dinner for Frankie at his apartment. She arrived shortly after seven, carrying an overnight bag and a bottle of red wine. Acting as though this was something she did all the time, she went to the bedroom to drop off the bag. She shrugged out of her jacket and left it on the bed before going into the living room.

"Won't be much longer," Kilmer called from the kitchen.

Frankie recognized the photo album on the couch as the one containing their honeymoon photos. So this is where it was, she thought. She sat down and flipped through the album, smiling at the happy memories it provoked.

A loose photograph fluttered to the floor, landing face down. Frankie picked it up and turned it over, then froze. It was a picture of her, pregnant. Kilmer had his hand on her belly. Both of them were grinning. They'd been so excited about the baby.

Frankie realized that she was finally able to think of Amy without wanting to cry. She wasn't sure how that made her feel.

Kilmer put his hand on her shoulder. She started, too lost in thought to have heard his approach. He saw the photo and came around the couch to sit next to her. "Are you okay?"

Frankie tucked the photo back in the album. She smiled. "You know what? I think I am."

Kilmer took the album and set it on the floor. He put his arm around Frankie. His other hand moved to her stomach. He slipped it under her shirt and let his fingers stroke her skin. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"I've been thinking," Frankie said, "it's silly to have two apartments."

"Where do you want to live? I don't mind moving." Kilmer's touch was becoming less comforting and more sensual.

"Neither do I."

"Maybe we should look for a new place." Kilmer's hand moved higher, his fingertips brushing Frankie's ribcage. "It's the most sensible option."

"Hmm . . . John, something's burning."

He sprang from the couch, rushing to the kitchen. Frankie followed and sat on the counter, watching as he tried to save the pasta. She crossed her legs, loving the domesticity of the scene. She'd missed this. She'd missed _him_.

"I'm going to Gitmo tomorrow."

"Atkins said so. Who're you going to interview?"

She waited until he put the pot down before speaking. "Sadiq Fasil."

"What?"

"John, I have to do this."

He crossed to her, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "Frankie, he tried to kill you."

"I know." She cupped his face in her palms and kissed him. "It'll be okay."

"I still don't like it."

"Nothing's going to happen."

"I should go with you."

Frankie pulled back. "John, how many times have I been to Gitmo by myself?"

He shrugged. "Dozens."

"I'll be fine." She hopped off the counter to give him a proper hug. "I'll be back tomorrow night."

He said nothing, but held her tighter.


	4. scapegoat

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chapter four: scapegoat

This was a bad idea, Frankie thought as the guard escorted her into the prison. She signed in, leaving her gun with a fierce-looking guard she didn't recognize. Her escort smiled as they headed to the interrogation room. "It's nice to see you again, ma'am."

Frankie's laugh sounded nervous to her own ears. "I wish I could say it's good to be back, Charlie."

Charlie nodded. "I understand. Here we are." He unlocked the door and stepped aside so Frankie could enter.

Sadiq Fasil sat at the table, his wrists and ankles manacled. He looked up when Frankie walked in and a slow, bitter, smile bloomed on his face. Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, Frankie set the file on the table and sat down.

Fasil spoke first. "I have been thinking about you."

Hearing his voice made Frankie's skin crawl. She masked her discomfort by looking away and opening the file.

Fasil leaned forward. "When I think about our time together, I think how I wasted it." He reached for her hand.

She sat back, putting distance between them. "I thought you were above such thoughts."

"I am weak." He frowned. "You made me weak. I can see now why your husband was so eager to find you."

"And you said I wouldn't be missed." Frankie forced herself to relax. "How does it feel to be wrong?"

There was a light in Fasil's eyes that sent cold chills down Frankie's spine. She knew she should move on to other questions, but she couldn't. Not yet.

"You shouldn't hate me. You should be grateful."

"Grateful? For what, exactly?"

"I brought you and your husband back together." He gestured to her rings.

"No, you didn't."

"Frankie Kilmer . . ." His gaze raked her. Then he sniffed, as if he suddenly found her distasteful. His words were mocking. "Are you here to kill me too?"

Frankie let her hand rest on the file. "Don't pretend it was about Alpha-126. I've done my homework. You didn't even know him."

Fasil shrugged. "It took you this long to find that out?"

"Why'd you pick me?"

"Eh, why not?"

"Who were you working for?"

Fasil smiled and he leaned forward again. "That cross around your neck – your Christ was chosen to die for the sins of others, yes?"

Frankie automatically reached up and touched the cross. Although she hadn't set foot in a church in years, she said, "Yes."

"So were you."

She swallowed, tasting bile. "What does that mean?"

Fasil just looked at her, his smile mocking, his eyes cold.

Frankie stood. "I want you think about Black Sun while I'm gone."

Charlie opened the door for her. She needed sunshine, fresh air, water. She wanted Kilmer. There was another guard outside, smoking a cigarette. He smiled at Frankie, offering the pack to her. Without thinking, she took one and let him light it.

The nicotine burned her throat. She hadn't smoked since high school and remembered now that she'd never liked it that much.

Kilmer was right; she shouldn't have come.

She let the cigarette fall to the floor and stubbed it out with her boot.

* * *

Michael Watson was the last person Kilmer wanted to see but when Michael called to invite him to lunch, he'd said yes. Now, sitting in _Houlini's_, Kilmer wished he hadn't come.

"It's been too many years," Michael said. "I thought it was about time we caught up with each other."

Kilmer nodded distractedly, his thoughts on the last time he'd seen Michael. They'd been friends in the Academy and became partners when they graduated. There had always been a slight edge of competition to their relationship, but Kilmer was more intelligent and a better agent. When he'd met Frankie, a beautiful, talented up-and-coming profiler, Michael had found even more to be jealous about.

Kilmer wondered just how much his old friend had changed, if at all.

"So, how's Frankie doing?" Michael asked. "I heard she was in hospital for a while."

"She's okay." The last thing Kilmer felt like doing was discussing her with Michael. "What have you been up to? Rumor has it you're an Assistant Director these days."

Michael gave a smug nod. "You heard right. I'm aiming for Director one day, but we'll have to wait and see how that goes."

"Yeah." Kilmer picked up the menu, quickly scanning it. Nothing caught his interest.

"So, uh, you and Frankie are back together, huh? I guess you guys managed to sort out all your differences then."

Kilmer's eyes narrowed. "Like I said, we're working on it."

"That's good. I'm happy for you." Michael sipped his water. "I never got around to getting married, you know. I thought if what you and Frankie had wasn't enough to keep you together, no one else had a chance."

Kilmer couldn't think of a suitable response.

"Anyway, tell me about this Threat Matrix project you're involved in."

Relieved that the conversation had moved to a more neutral topic, Kilmer filled Michael in on some of the less sensitive cases he'd dealt with.

And all the while, he thought of Frankie having to interrogate Fasil, and hoped she was okay.

* * *

Angel had found, early on in the assignment, that working alone was tough. She looked around the Vault, wondering if there was anyone here she could go to with her suspicions. She desperately needed a second opinion, before it was too late for Kilmer.

Deciding against it, Angel turned back to her computer screen and resumed her investigation of Kilmer's past. She was compiling a list of anyone who had a reason – no matter how seemingly insignificant – to hurt Kilmer. She'd only been at it an hour and already the list was too long for her liking.

It included people involved in his missions for the Delta Force, from cases he'd dealt with as an FBI agent, terrorists he'd investigated and pursued . . . and everyone working at the Vault. No one, with the possible exception of Frankie, was above suspicion.

It had to be someone who knew Kilmer well enough to know his weakness was Frankie, Angel thought, and that narrowed the list to his colleagues. As horrifying as the prospect was that one of Kilmer's friends was out to destroy him, it was the only thing that made sense to Angel.

The only question now was whether it was someone from here, or someone from his past.

Angel could feel the beginnings of a headache.


	5. good idea, bad idea

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chapter five: good idea, bad idea

Frankie entered the interrogation room a second time, determined not to let Fasil get under her skin again. As before, he was already seated. Frankie remained standing.

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About me being chosen. I don't think I was a necessary part of Black Sun's plan. Am I right?"

Fasil said nothing.

"I'm going to tell you what I think happened." She smiled. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Black Sun ordered the bombing of Bethesda. They've never been picky about how their attacks are carried out, as long as the damage is done."

She paused, carefully studying Fasil's body language. So far, he was giving nothing away.

"The victims – Black Sun doesn't care who they are. They're just bodies."

Now Frankie sat, folding her hands in front of her. "I know I've never done anything to you personally or to your family. But taking me was personal. Keeping me in that cellar, starving me, beating me – those were personal."

She lowered her voice, choosing her words with care. "I know you're not as holy as you pretend to be. I saw how you looked at me. If this was all about pleasing Allah, you wouldn't need the money. But then I guess everyone has their price. Even you."

Fasil met her eyes. "You know some things, but not everything. Not what you need to know."

"Are you going to tell me?"

He shook his head.

Frankie stood. "Guard? I'm done here. You can take this prisoner away. Give him the usual five star treatment." In Gitmo, five star meant sleep deprivation, constant noise, food the prisoner couldn't eat, temperature control, manipulating the prisoner's perception and solitary confinement.

Frankie turned her back on Fasil, something she knew better than to do, but she was eager to leave the room. He attacked her, pushing her against the wall. The guard reacted quickly, pulling him off her and throwing him to the floor. Frankie slipped out; she had to get away.

Somehow, she found herself in the staff lounge. She poured coffee into a mug, adding extra sugar in the hope that it would calm her shaken nerves. Then she sat on one of the stools, her hands closed around the mug, rocking back and forth. And again she thought, this was a bad idea.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel could hardly ignore a summons from the White House Chief of Staff. After signing in at security, she made her way through the West Wing to Leo McGarry's office. A male voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Angel O'Reilly?"

She turned, smiling. "Joshua Lyman!"

Josh pulled her into a hug then stepped back to look at her. "What are you doing here? Aren't you a big bad marine now, fighting to save the world?"

"I had a slight career change. I'm with Homeland Security now." That was technically the truth, she thought. Josh didn't have to know it was temporary. He tilted his head and she knew he'd guessed she was hiding something. That was the problem with knowing him all her life. Angel walked alongside him for a while until they came to his office.

"What's with the crutch?"

"Uh, a car accident. It's a long story." To change the subject, she said, "How's your mom doing these days?"

"She's good. Hey, you remember Donna, don't you?"

Angel smiled at Josh's assistant. Noticing the way the woman was studying her, she bit back a laugh. What was it with blondes and not liking her? Not that Donna had anything to worry about. Josh had always been like a dorky older brother. She'd grown up calling his parents "Uncle" and "Aunt".

"Hey, Donna. Josh, I'll catch up with you later, okay? I've got a meeting with Leo."

"Since when do you have meetings with the Chief of Staff?"

Angel gave an innocent smile. "He's my godfather, Josh. I was in Washington, I thought I'd pop around and say hi." She waved and carried on walking, leaving Josh staring after her.

McGarry's secretary, Margaret, sent her straight in. "Hello, Angel.'

"Hi."

"I'm sorry to pull you away from the Vault today, but it was the only opening he had."

"Who?"

McGarry gestured for her to go through a door. A little nervous – she had a fairly good idea where the door led – Angel went inside.

"Mr. President. May I introduce Lieutenant Colonel Angeline O'Reilly."

Angel shook President Bartlet's hand. "Hello, sir."

The three of them sat on the couches. Angel's eyes darted around the room, taking in all the details. She'd never thought she'd ever be in the Oval Office.

"Leo says you've made some progress," Bartlet said.

Angel nodded and took a deep breath before speaking. "All the information I've found suggests John Kilmer has been communicating with Black Sun for the last six months and that he paid Sadiq Fasil to kill his wife. Ex-wife. I can't say I understand the dynamics of their relationship."

Bartlet turned to McGarry. "How is it that we put a traitor in charge of Homeland Security?"

"Actually, sir, I don't think he is a traitor." When it was clear that the men expected an explanation, Angel pressed on. "I just think it's very convenient – too convenient – that all the evidence points so neatly to him. And if you saw him and Frankie together, you'd know he isn't capable of hurting her."

"So, what's your theory?" McGarry asked.

Grateful that the men were willing to listen to her, she began to relax. "I have two, but not a whole of physical proof for either."

Bartlet nodded for her to continue.

"First scenario is that someone's trying to disrupt Homeland Security operations. Setting Kilmer up is obviously going to cause a lot of internal chaos and the team's going to be worried and distracted and not focused on doing their jobs properly."

"And scenario two?"

"It's personal. Someone has a grudge against Kilmer and they'll do whatever it takes to destroy him."

Bartlet looked doubtful. "That's a bit of a stretch."

"Not exactly. I put together a list of names of people who may have a reason to hate him. It's a pretty long list."

"Angel, we need to get moving on this," McGarry said. "Give us something concrete."

"I'm fairly certain it's someone who knows Kilmer, maybe even works with him." She studied each of the men in turn then gave a hesitant smile. "But I have an idea."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jelani stared at the computer screen. Then, breaking into a smile, he swiveled in his chair. "I got a hit on Nathalie. A CIA agent in Marseilles has seen her a couple of times."

Mo and Tim exchanged a glance. "You ready to go back to Europe?" Mo asked.

Tim crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at Mo, hitting him square in the chest. "You know, chasing Nathalie around the world has put a serious dent in my love life."

_It's not the whole world,_ Holly signed_. Just Europe._

Tyler laughed. "We can swap jobs if you like."

"Not a chance." Tim stood. "Guess I'd better go pack."

"Maybe this time we'll actually catch her." Mo slapped Tim's shoulder. "Meet you at Andrews in an hour?"

Tim nodded and followed Mo out.

"Don't you two get tired of sitting in here all day?" Tyler asked. "Don't you ever wish you were out in the field?"

Jelani and Holly looked at each other. Holly shrugged. Jelani swiveled back to the computer. "Nah. They'd be pretty useless out there if we weren't in here."

Yeah, this is where the action is.

"And there's less chance of getting shot to pieces from here."

You're just a big baby.

"Well, I know how heartbroken you'd be if something happened to me."

Holly rolled her eyes. _In your dreams._

"Yours, maybe."

Whatever.

"Hey, Tyler, help me out here, man."

Tyler was used to his colleagues' banter and knew they could go on for hours. He stood and looked around for Angel; maybe he could give her a hard time for stealing his crackers again. Before he walked off, he turned his head so Holly wouldn't be able to read his lips.

"Just ask her out already."


	6. trust no one

_chapter six: trust no one_

The restaurant was small and intimate. Instead of electric lighting, there were hundreds of candles around the room, lending the place an aura of otherworldliness. When Kilmer had found out about it a few months back, he'd thought it was something Frankie would enjoy. Now that she was out of hospital, he'd decided to take her on an official date.

Frankie smiled at him across the table, her mind still on the encounter with Fasil. She hadn't told Kilmer he'd attacked her, knowing that would only upset him.

He put his hand on her leg. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just tired."

Concern etched on his features, Kilmer touched her face, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Stop worrying," she said.

"Never."

"It was a rough day."

He moved his chair closer. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Frankie broke eye contact and picked up her glass of wine.

"Frankie?"

She exhaled. "Yes and no."

Kilmer put his arm around her shoulder, letting her know he was there while giving her time to collect her thoughts. Eventually, she raised her eyes to meet his and gave a small smile.

"Seeing him again was harder than I thought it would be. I had to do it though. I had to let him see that he hadn't won." She traced the rim of the glass with her thumb. "I think I also had to prove to myself that he hadn't broken me."

"I'm proud of you, you know that? Not many people would be able to face their tor—" He couldn't say 'torturer'. "Their captor."

Frankie shrugged. "It's my job."

"That doesn't change anything."

"I made an appointment with one of the Bureau's trauma counselors."

He smiled. "Good. I'm glad."

"Atkins was going to make me do it anyway. I thought it may as well be on my own terms, with someone I trust."

"You know you can talk to me too, right?"

"I know." Frankie kissed him, then smiled. "Let's get the bill and go home."

"What about dessert?"

"Oh, I intend to have my dessert." She sat back in her chair and dropped her gaze to his mouth.

Fifteen minutes later, the bill was paid and they were in a cab on the way back to Kilmer's apartment. Sitting close together on the back seat, Kilmer nuzzling her neck, Frankie couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this content.

In retrospect, she should have known it was too good to be true.

Atkins was waiting for them with two men belonging to the Military Police. Instinctively knowing something was wrong, Frankie moved nearer to Kilmer.

Atkins stepped forward, a folded piece of white paper in his hand. He looked deeply troubled. "John, I have a warrant for your arrest."

Kilmer frowned. "What?"

"I'm sorry, John." He gestured to the MP's, who handcuffed Kilmer then led him away.

"Wait," Frankie said. "I don't understand. What's going on?"

Atkins handed her the warrant. She skimmed through it, then looked at Atkins, shaking her head in disbelief. "There must be some mistake. John's not a traitor."

"Frankie, we have evidence—"

"Well, it's wrong!"

"I'm sorry." Atkins turned away.

"I'm coming with you."

"That's not a good idea."

"Damn it, Roger." The use of his first name stopped him in his tracks. "You know this is wrong."

"Frankie, if a mistake has been made, we'll find it."

For a while, Frankie was too stunned at the absurdity of the situation to do anything. When Atkins had left, a figure stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hall.

"Frankie, we need to talk."

"Angel?"

"Can we go inside?"

Frankie dug in her bag for the keys then unlocked the door. When she turned back to Angel, she was surprised to see another woman at her side. "Nurse Hatcher?"

Margo Hatcher smiled. "Once upon a time. Now I'm Special Agent Hatcher with the Secret Service."

"Margo was assigned to protect you during your stay in the hospital," Angel explained. "Please, we need to go inside."

Frankie let the women enter ahead of her, then locked the door. "I think you need to tell me who you really are."

Angel sat on the couch, waiting for Frankie to sit before she continued. "I was assigned to the Threat Matrix team to find out whether or not Kilmer was a traitor. I know he's not but I can't prove it. The real traitor has covered his – or her – tracks too well."

"A traitor." Frankie shook her head in disbelief.

"You're the only member of the team who knows why I'm really there. You can't tell anyone." She paused to let the words sink in. "Everybody is a suspect."

"You don't seriously think it's one of our guys?"

Angel's silence was answer enough.

"How can I help you?"

Angel looked at Margo then back at Frankie. "I haven't told you everything. I think that you're a central part of this, that your kidnapping set everything in motion."

Frankie was suddenly cold. "They tried to use me to hurt him."

"I think so. Frankie, the only reason I'm telling you this now is because I don't think the danger has passed. Margo's going to be watching you for the next couple of days."

Frankie just nodded.

* * *

It was strange for Frankie to wake up alone the next morning. She went through the motions of getting ready for work. If Angel was right, someone on their team had set Kilmer up.

She felt ill. She couldn't go to work today, not when she had no idea who had betrayed them.

When she called Atkins, he told her Kilmer was being questioned. He couldn't tell her where he was or when she could see him. Frankie had no way of telling if it was because he didn't know or if he wasn't allowed to. She hung up without thanking him.

Just before noon, there was a knock on the door. Michael Watson was on the other side. Although Frankie really didn't want company, she invited him in out of politeness. She made him coffee and tried to think of a plausible reason to get rid of him.

He hadn't changed, she thought. She remembered the false concern after the miscarriage – remarkably similar to the fake sympathy he was displaying now – and she wondered why she'd let him into the apartment. She knew better.

"It must be hard," he was saying, "to find out that he was a traitor all along. Especially now that you've reconciled."

Michael put his mug on the coffee table and slid along the couch until he was almost touching Frankie. He put his hand on her arm. "If there's anything I can do to help . . ."

"You know as well as I do that John's no traitor." Frankie stood and began to clear up, needing to break the contact.

Michael followed her into the kitchen. "I've been hearing some disturbing things, Frankie. I didn't want to tell you, but maybe it's better if you heard them from a friend."

Frankie turned around, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not interested."

"How well do you know John?"

The man just didn't give up, Frankie thought. After all of these years, he was still trying to come between her and Kilmer. She sighed. "John's a good man. He loves his country. He would die before selling out."

"He might love his country, but does he love you?"

She fought the urge to throw something at him. "Yes. He does."

"Some of what's being said is that he arranged for your kidnapping."

Frankie took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. At length, she asked, "Why did you come here, Michael?"

He stepped closer. "I thought you could use a friend."

"We haven't seen each other in – what? Seven years? – and _now_ you want to be my friend?"

Michael's smile was decidedly sheepish. Frankie was about three seconds from forcibly kicking him out.

"I think you'd better go."

"If that's what you want."

She nodded and walked him to the door. "Oh, Michael? Don't bother coming back. John and I could do without friends like you."

Frankie saw in his expression the realization that he really had lost and she almost felt a flicker of sympathy. If he hadn't spent his life trying to meet other people's standards, he might have been happy.

* * *

It was late that night when Frankie was finally able to see Kilmer. He was being held in the brig at Fort Meade. Frankie wondered why he hadn't been transferred to Guantanamo Bay yet and could only think that Angel had something to do with it. She'd discovered that Angel had more authority than she'd first thought; it was Angel who had arranged for Frankie to visit.

Kilmer looked exhausted. Frankie ignored protocol and went around the table to hug him.

"God, Frankie, it's so good to see you."

"Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'm hanging in there. No one will tell me anything, which is frustrating, but what can I do?"

"Have they interviewed you yet?"

"No."

Frankie frowned. Atkins had told her he had been questioned. "That's strange."

"They're treating me very well for a suspected traitor."

She wondered what Angel hadn't told her. "Well," she said brightly, "you won't be in here long."

"I hope so." He took her hands. "Does my mother know?"

"No."

"Don't tell her. She'll just worry."

He pulled her onto his lap. She kissed his forehead, wishing she could ease the tension she saw there. "It'll be okay."

He smiled. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I figured." She smiled as well. "And I love you."

An MP stepped into the room. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Time's up. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Frankie kissed Kilmer again. "I'll come back when I can."

* * *

The prospect of another night without Kilmer was almost depressing. In the short time they'd been together again, Frankie had grown so used to his company. She missed him.

And when he slept next to her, he kept the nightmares at bay.

Too restless to sleep, Frankie got up to fetch a glass of water. Though Angel had said Margo was keeping an eye on her, Frankie hadn't seen the other woman.

Just goes to show how good she is, Frankie thought.

It was strange how the dark seemed less oppressive when Kilmer was around. Frankie reached out to switch on the kitchen light, then froze mid-gesture. Something didn't feel right.

Suddenly there was the cold blade of a knife at her throat, and a familiar voice in her ear. "You're a hard woman to get rid of, Frankie."


	7. in sheep's clothing

_chapter seven: in sheep's clothing_

Her pulse throbbed against the blade of the knife. One cut and it would be over. Frankie closed her eyes but couldn't prevent a lone tear from escaping to trickle down her cheek.

"It's too late to cry."

She swallowed, uncomfortably aware of the knife. "Tyler . . ."

"I didn't want it to get this far." There was a tinge of regret in his voice, accompanied by a horrifying tone of finality.

"Tyler, I don't understand."

"You never did."

Very slowly, Frankie reached up and curled her fingers around Tyler's arm. She kept her voice calm. "Let's talk about this, Tyler. We're friends, aren't we? Tell me what's wrong."

"Stop trying to psychoanalyze me!" The knife pressed into her skin, burning. She couldn't tell if he'd nicked her.

"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry." She held her hands out in a gesture of surrender. "I just want to know why you're doing this."

Tyler repositioned the knife so its tip rested in the hollow at the base of her throat. He kissed her neck and it took all of her self-control to keep from shuddering. Where the hell was Margo?

"Why?" His breath was hot on her skin. "You say we're friends, but we're not."

"I thought we were."

"No." He turned her around, pinning her against the wall. "I loved you and you never noticed me. It was always him."

"Who?"

"If I can't have you, no one can." Tyler traced her cheekbone with the knife, brought it down over her lips and came to stop under her chin. "He's not going to save you this time."

Frankie moistened her lips, her eyes on his. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"You would have just smiled and said you weren't interested. Smile for me now, Frankie."

"Tyler—"

"Do it!"

She blinked and forced her lips into a smile.

"You're so beautiful."

"Tyler, please put down the knife. John's not here now. We can talk about this."

He chuckled. "I know he's not here. I'm smarter than you people give me credit for, you know."

In a sudden flash of insight, Frankie understood. "You set him up."

There was a noise from the hall, distracting him. Frankie knew this was her only chance. She brought up her knee, catching him in the groin. At the same time, she jerked the knife away from her throat. Tyler collapsed on the floor, groaning in pain. Frankie grabbed the knife and knelt over him.

"Frankie?"

She looked up as Margo turned the light on. The agent was bleeding from a wound to her side.

"Sorry," Margo said. "He surprised me."

Frankie looked from Margo to Tyler. She turned back to Margo. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. It's a scratch. Angel's on her way."

Frankie nodded.

* * *

Frankie couldn't believe she was back at GW Memorial. Angel had insisted that she go with Margo in the ambulance for a checkup, promising that she would call as soon as she had news about Kilmer.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I need to take a look at your neck."

Frankie bit her lip at the sting of the anaesthetic as the doctor dabbed at the graze on her neck.

"Were you missing us, Frankie?"

She looked to the door to find Doctor Moore, her previous physician, watching her with a smile on his face.

"You've gone to extremes to get back here, I see."

Despite her concern for Kilmer and Margo, Frankie managed to smile. "Hi."

Dr. Moore approached the bed and took over from the other doctor. "Nurse Hatcher – Agent Hatcher, rather – is in surgery. She's going to be fine."

"Thanks, Doc."

Dr. Moore examined Frankie's neck, then nodded. "Is this what you call taking it easy?"

"It wasn't my fault." At Dr. Moore's dubious look, she said, "Really. I have been taking it easy."

There was a noise at the door and the next thing Frankie knew, she was in Kilmer's arms. His stubble scratched her face and the graze on her neck burned but she didn't care.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Kilmer looked at Dr. Moore for confirmation. The doctor nodded.

"It's just a scratch." He stood, leaving the room to give them some privacy.

Kilmer released her and looked at the wound himself. His face paled as he traced the graze with his thumb. Frankie covered his hand with hers. "I'm fine."

"You've got to stop scaring me like this. When Angel told me you'd been attacked . . ." He shook his head. "Tyler, of all people."

"He set you up. He—"

Kilmer put a finger to Frankie's lips to shush her. "I know. Angel explained everything on the way here."

The adrenaline was wearing off and shock began to set in. Frankie blinked back tears without much success. "He wanted me. He wanted me and he couldn't have me and – and—"

"Shh." Kilmer put his arms around her again, gentler this time. "There's more, Frankie. It's worse than you think."

She tried to pull away but Kilmer held fast.

"Tyler has been part of Black Sun for almost a year."

Frankie made the connection immediately. "Fasil," she whispered.

"Yeah."

Frankie said nothing for a long time. Then she looked up at Kilmer, her eyes red, her face stained with tears, and said, "Let's go home."

* * *

Frankie sat in the bathtub, her arms wrapped around her knees. She reached up and felt the graze on her neck, remembering the feel of the knife against her skin. Remembering the hatred in Tyler's voice. Remembering how dark and cold it had been in that cellar, how cruel Fasil had been.

She didn't hear Kilmer enter. When he touched her shoulder, she looked up at him. "Hey."

He sat on the edge of the tub, picked up a sponge and began to soap her back. She closed her eyes, knowing he needed to take care of her as much as she needed to be taken care of.

"I just got off the phone with Angel," he said. "Tyler's in the brig. They're keeping him here for questioning."

"Who's doing the questioning?"

"Fulbright," Kilmer said, naming the leader of one of the other Homeland Security teams. "Atkins refused to let me. He said he was worried I might reach across the table and do something stupid like wring Tyler's neck."

Frankie smiled. Kilmer's hands were soothing on her skin. "Not to mention that you were the one Tyler set up."

"I don't care about that. Compared to what else was at stake . . ." Kilmer's hands stilled. "I could have lost you tonight."

"But you didn't."

Kilmer rinsed the remaining soap from her back and picked up a towel. Frankie stood, letting him wrap her in it.

"We're okay, aren't we?"

She smiled. "More than okay."

The towel fell to the floor.

* * *

The Vault's atmosphere was unusually subdued the day following Tyler's arrest. Cassandra Hodges had ordered that all current employees be subjected to another round of vetting. Until that was done with, everyone would be suspicious of one another. Even then, it would take a while before things got back to normal.

Mo and Tim, having spent the last few days in Europe, were completely taken aback at how quiet the Vault was. They noticed a couple of people give them strange looks as they headed towards Holly and Jelani.

"Hey," Tim said, "What's going on?"

_You'd better sit down for this,_ Holly signed.

Jelani quickly filled them in on what had happened with Tyler, Frankie and Kilmer, and Angel's involvement. He finished by saying, "I can't believe it. Man, he was our friend, you know."

Mo nodded. "You think you know someone."

Atkins crossed the room to join them. "Good work on finding that bomb."

"Too bad we didn't get Nathalie though," Mo said.

"Yeah, that woman's as slippery as a damn eel." Tim shook his head. "Jelani, has there been any chatter about her?"

Jelani shook his head.

"Take a few days," Atkins said. "You two deserve it."

Neither Tim nor Mo was going to object to a vacation.

"I'm going to need your weapons and identification," Atkins continued.

"What?"

"It's nothing personal. Everyone's being vetted again. If you thought we were paranoid before . . ." Atkins smiled.

Tim shrugged and handed his gun and ID to Atkins. "If it gets me a couple days off, I'm not complaining."

Holly smiled as she watched the two field agents walk off with Atkins. When Jelani touched her arm, she spun her chair around to look at him.

"Look, there's really nothing for us to do here now . . ." He glanced down at his hands and took a deep breath before continuing. "Would you – I mean, do you want to go get something to eat . . . or something?"

Holly's grin widened. _Are you asking me on a date?_

"Umm, maybe."

She pretended to think about it, then stood. _Okay._

* * *

Angel waited patiently outside McGarry's office, giving Margaret a polite smile. The phone rang. Margaret listened to the caller then looked at Angel.

"He's in with the President. You can go through."

"Thanks." Angel put her hand on the doorknob.

"No, I meant, they're in the Oval Office."

"Right. Of course." Angel took a deep breath and headed for the other door. She wondered if she'd ever get over being nervous in front of President Bartlet. A young black man opened the door for her and nodded for her to enter.

"Good afternoon." She greeted both men with a nod.

Bartlet waved for her to sit. "Leo tells me you've managed to clear John Kilmer."

"Well, not by myself. It was more a case of watching for the right moment to make a move. In the end, Tyler Harris made it easy by going after Frankie."

Bartlet nodded and half-turned in his seat to face McGarry. "It's like chess, Leo. An inexperienced player will often dig himself into a hole."

"You're mixing metaphors, Mr. President."

Bartlet looked at Angel. "Do you see? My best friend doesn't even respect me."

Angel wasn't sure how to respond.

"Do you like chess, Angel?"

"Uh, Mr. President, if we could finish with this?" Leo held up a copy of Angel's report.

"Alright, fine. So, Angel, I assume things will be returning to normal at Homeland Security?"

"I hope so, sir."

"And the Kilmers? I think it's about time I met them. What do you say, Leo?"

"Maybe when they get back from vacation, Mr. President." McGarry smiled at Angel. "Good job on this. What's next for you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know yet."

McGarry and Bartlet exchanged a glance. Bartlet leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. "How would you like to work for me?"

Kilmer stood at the water's edge, framed by the light of the setting sun. Frankie strolled to join him, the beach sand warm under her bare feet. When she reached Kilmer's side, she slipped her arm around his waist. They stood in silence for a while, enjoying the peace. After everything that had happened, it was good to get away from D.C.

Frankie gave a contented sigh and leaned her head against Kilmer's shoulder.

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy to be here. With you. I didn't think we'd ever get to this point again."

Kilmer kissed her forehead. "I love you. I never stopped, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "I don't think I ever stopped loving you either."

"Say it again."

She grinned. "I love you."

He kissed her, holding her close to him. It was only when the cold water began lapping at their feet that they remembered the rest of the world existed. Kilmer looked down at the water, glaring at it for the interruption.

"I can't believe Atkins gave us tickets to Maui." Frankie chuckled. "Not that I'm complaining."

"He should make it a yearly thing. You know, as an incentive to work harder."

"Oh, sure. I can see that happening."

"You're right. We should probably make the most of this week then, don't you think?" He swept her into his arms before she had a chance to respond and carried her back up to the hotel.

* * *

finis

_A/N: Alas, all good things must come to an end :-( Thanks to everyone who's been following this story; I appreciate the time you took to leave feedback._


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